


I'm Cold

by Jellycho



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Lea vs a Cat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellycho/pseuds/Jellycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isa wakes up and makes breakfast. Lea wakes up and desperately needs to stay warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Cold

Isa wakes up first during a suddenly  _way_  colder Winter morning. He shivers, the chilly air getting to him despite having slept next to Lea, living radiator and fire user, and currently being buried under at least two of the thickest blankets they own.

He yawns, checks the bedside clock. Seven am, it reads in an angry red, and Isa groans. He could stay in bed a little longer… But knowing Isa’s luck, he probably won’t be able to fall back asleep. Damn his sleeping habits.

So he groans, much preferring to go and do something of use than to lie wide awake doing nothing until Lea finally decides to wake up. With barely a care in the world Isa slowly removes himself from the redhead’s grasp. The man sleeps like a log anyway, so there’s really no need to be gentle in the procedure.

It takes a while until Isa can call himself free again, but it finally does happen. And so without a word he leaves the cozy bedroom, into the freezer of his living room just to find something to do.

* * *

An hour later has Isa cooking breakfast, jazz music playing from the stereo and a hungry cat meowing at his feet.

He grabs another slice of bacon for the pan. “Princess,” he whispers, “I’ve already fed you. You can’t have any bacon.”

Muffins, the feline third owner of the house, continues meowing expectantly anyway. In the end Isa can’t deny her of a teeny tiny taste, and he smiles at how cute she looks standing on her hind legs when presented with bacon. If Isa had his phone at hand, she’d feel like a celebrity.

Cats. They’ve always been to cute for him too handle and resist.

But he digresses. With a sulky sigh at the interruption of kitty cuteness Isa gets back to work, letting Muffins finish the piece of bacon in peace. Breakfast must be finished and served before Lea wakes up and bursts into this perfectly quiet bubble of a morning.

Seriously, it’s amazing; even the absurdly cold wind from the open windows feels somehow comforting today, excluding how he ends up shivering and wrapping himself further into his baggy sweater every five seconds.

So into his own mind he is that Isa doesn’t notice himself smiling and humming along with the music, genuinely enjoying himself and the almost silent world around him. After finishing up the bacon he cracks open an egg onto the pan, and laughs when he hears Muffins meowing once again at the strange noise it makes when it hits the hot surface.

Isa feels a tug at his leg and finds the cat standing on her hind legs once again, trying to reach the delicious-smelling human food. He can’t help laughing. “Muffins,” he says, “I need you to let go of me now.”

"Dude, my hands are like,  _so cold_. Here; feel them.”

The first thing that scares the shit out of Isa is the sudden voice from behind him. That at least earns a gasp and a slight jump of the shoulders from him, but what really makes him scream out loud and accidentally flip the egg in the pan a little too harshly are the icy hands suddenly on his cheeks. The end result is an elbow to Lea’s stomach and a perfectly fried egg on the floor for Muffins to delight herself with; what a loss.

Lea groans in pain, holding his stomach and backing up against the wall for some support. _"Ow,_  dude!” he breathes out. “What the hell?!”

"Lea," Isa’s voice is small with shock. He stares at him, wide eyed and with a hand on his own chest. "Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Well, yeah," Lea rubs at his stomach as he tries to incorporate himself back into a proper position but fails. "But you’re the one who hit me."

Isa glares at the redhead and that somehow only gets a laugh in reply. A few more seconds of it and he finally apologizes. The bastard is enjoying himself, and this entire situation a lot more. Well, whatever— Isa rolls his eyes, then returns his attention to more pressing matters.

He looks down to where the egg landed and makes a face. Muffins is already half done with it. “Oh, honey, you can’t eat that.”

"Why not?" Lea finally picks himself up and rubs his hands together for warmth. Quickly finishing her food, the cat raises her head to make eye contact with him, and he grimaces. "It’s just an egg. Let her enjoy herself or whatever."

"I don’t trust such a comment from you," Isa says, picking up the fluffy cat with the utmost care. He gives her a quick peck on the head and Lea makes a disgusted sound that he thinks is low enough to not be heard, but unfortunately for him, Isa hears.

"Lea," he calls then with a glare, "would you be so kind as to clean this up while I take her out?"

The man in question pouts. “Why me?” When Isa’s face darkens he knows to drop the pouty bullshit and gets himself on the move. “Fine, fine,” the redhead sighs, rubbing his arms to regain some warmth, damn it. “I’ll clean the freakin’ egg.”

Isa smirks and takes the cat out of the kitchen. “Thank you, dear.”

"Fuck you," he hears an annoyed shout.

 _"Later,"_  he almost yells back.

* * *

After putting Muffins somewhere far away from their breakfast’s reach, Isa returns to find a clean floor and a sulky redhead pathetically wrapped up in a blanket.

Lea notices the other’s smirk before it fully forms and glares. “I’m  _cold,_  dammit.”

"Sure you are," the cook whispers and gets back to work. Seeing as his previous perfect work was sabotaged, Isa will have to begin anew with another egg. So he cracks a new one open on the pan, mumbling about how he hopes egg isn’t harmful to cats. It probably isn’t, but it never hurts to check and find out. Maybe later when he’s on a computer, or on his phone, then he can—

He would’ve screamed again if he hadn’t already known Lea was there. “What are you doing?”

Who knows how long he’s been distracted, turning around the subject of cats and human food in his head in silence. But in the span of however long that was Lea’s slid up to him and wrapped both arms around his waist, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Sure, Lea, you go ahead and do that. It’s not like your breathing is tickling him. No big deal.

Isa squirms a little. “Get your face out of there. Your nose is freezing.”

"Duh," Lea’s voice is muffled, and it tickles and Isa hates it. " _I’m_  fucking freezing.”

"Why don’t you put your nose on the stove? That should warm it up."

"Hey!" Lea’s face quickly whips out of the other’s neck. He squints at the other in an overly theatrical gesture.

Isa laughs; that’s one victory. “I’m kidding, idiot.”

From behind him he hears a sniff and a low whine, and the arms around his waist tighten their embrace. “Shut up and feed me already.”

"You know, you could really help me by making coffee," the blue haired responds, setting apart the now finished food and turning off the stove.

"But then I’ll get cold again, so fuck that."

"Lea…"

The man whines, squishes himself against Isa even more to try and warm himself up. He doesn’t let go even after Isa starts serving their breakfast and gets started on the coffee; he just whines louder with each step the other takes, dragging his feet all along.

"You’re making it very hard for me to move, you know that?" Isa sighs and comments after setting two warm cups of coffee on the table, one next to each plate of fried eggs with bacon and toast to the side. It’s the end result of a busy morning almost gone wrong thanks to a cat and two cold hands, and it actually looks good. Isa mentally pats himself on the back and smiles; no matter what happened, he survived.

"You’re such a good cook, Isa," Lea mumbles as he unlocks himself off Isa’s back and flops down on a chair. He yawns, rubbing at his eyes; how can he be sleepy again after all that?

Isa hums absently and settles down on the chair in front of him. “You look ridiculous with that blanket on you like that.”

"I can’t help it, I’m—"

"Cold, yeah," Isa laughs. "We need to do something about that, don’t we?"

The interruption isn’t that funny to Lea. He pouts once again. What a brat. “Well, what do you suggest, genius?”

Isa takes his time to chew, staring at Lea as though he were thinking hard and long before swallowing and saying “get another blanket” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Are you kidding? Lea lets his annoyance show by slamming his head against the table. Yet clearly it isn’t a very good idea; a hand quickly flies to his forehead to calm the pain of the hit. “That’s so not funny,” he half groans, half mumbles against the wood, whining when he hears Isa’s amused laughter in return.

"It  _is_  funny. You just lack taste in jokes,” Isa replies. Then he quickly adds: “You’ll need another blanket if you want me to fit with you.”

Lea’s already feeding himself with his face against the table, cheeks filled with bacon when Isa makes his comment. He chokes then, alerting the other, but quickly regains composure to sit up and say, “you mean you wanna cuddle?”

It’s funny to see Isa glare, growl, throw him a piece of toast while he slowly flushes, all in a matter of seconds. “Shut up and eat,” he mumbles, averting his eyes and angrily, almost aggressively taking a sip of warm coffee.

Lea laughs. “Sure, honey. But we’ll cuddle later, right?”

The redhead manages to at least catch the rest of the toast Isa throws at him.


End file.
